Always on the Run
by ladylokii
Summary: Upon receiving an anxious message from his Dad, Chris alerts you of an incoming attack from some rebelling thugs. Not wanting to be killed, the two of you go on the run from them, knowing they'll have eyes everywhere. On top of that, Kick Ass and Hit Girl are incredibly keen to pay Chris a visit and have a few 'words' with him. Always something around the corner...
1. I Got a Ride

A good day can turn sour in a matter of a few minutes: so when Chris' phone went crazy with urgent messages, you knew it wasn't to be a good sign. He shot off the sofa, taking a few odd cushions down with him and hurried into the bedroom to put his costume in a bag. You were taken aback by his sudden rush and the way he flung himself of the sofa in a half panic had you questioning what had been said.  
"Chris? What the hell are you doing?" You sulked off after him, leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom and raising an eyebrow. Chris had carried on shoving item after item into the bag and he'd begun on your wardrobe. You shrugged your shoulders, observing him flinging clothes around and raving about the room like he was on fire, or something of the like. Before he answered, your shirts were being flung down onto the bed and you noticed he made a gesture for you to help him out.  
"My Dad was in the area, no gun on him and he noticed some angry looking dudes coming this way. Armed with God knows what, too." Your jaw dropped and you rushed in to sort out the small pile that had begun gathering atop the bag. You stuffed each thing in, pressing it all down to make more space. Though you then remembered that huge chauffeur that drove Chris' dad around all of the time, you recalled that he often carried a gun just in case. You even spoke with him about it at one time, surely he'd have his on him to come to the flat and shoot down whoever it was after the two of you.  
"What about that huge chauffeur of his? He always has a gun on him at least!" Not today apparently. Chris shook his head anxiously. Your heart began racing and you were helplessly throwing yet more clothes onto the bag that Chris had set out. He was cussing and yelling to no extent, his panic slowly growing. About to throw your last pair of jeans onto the pile, you were stopped by him gripping onto your wrist with a unusual force. It was a desperate gesture and you noticed his hand was shaking slightly with the fear of whoever was coming.  
"That's enough, {y/n}. We have to bust out of the window and I'm not lugging a bag that weighs a tonne out of it." You curtly turned your nose up at the idea of carrying it all yourself, instead of him and pulled some odd bits out of the bag. You ended up throwing most of your best jeans down on the floor, leaving them for dead almost. You zipped up the bag, tugging at it with a slight frustration when it started sticking at the half way.  
"Do we even know why they're coming? Or if they're even coming for us?" You asked, looking up from the bag, throwing it over to Chris who was stood by the window. He shook his head and shrugged, obviously not willing to take any risks in the matter.

Chris flung the bag onto his back and then threw one of your old school trophies out of the window, smashing it with a louder crash than you'd expected. You let out a little grumble, slightly annoyed that your trophy had to take one for the team. It was a favourite, but then again, you supposed you'd rather have a trophy gone than to be killed by some angry thug. Though as it crashed and flew down onto the street below, you assumed this caused a stir with the expected thugs, as you heard them shouting and calling for you. They'd entered the block where your small flat was kept and they were on their way up through the echoing flight of stairs. You were only on the second floor, so you didn't think it'd take them long to reach you.  
"Well they definitely are coming for us." You grumbled, with no hope of lightening the mood at all. Chris simply glared back at you as you hurried over behind him.  
"Shit..." Chris uttered as one of the guys looked up at the window, he ducked back into the room and almost knocked you backwards as he did. Chris had hoped that none of them saw him hovering at the window. But then, without a second thought, he propped himself up onto the frame and took a look down at the distance, dismissing it quickly as he dropped down to the concrete below.  
"Woah, fuck me, that kinda hurt..." Chris was stumbling to his feet on the walkway below you. You took one last look behind you, hearing them draw closer as they reached the door. You closed your eyes as you sat up on the side of the window. Though just as you were about to slide yourself forward to jump down, they burst through the door, shouting and cussing to you. You felt the fear of them growing inside you.  
"There's his bitch, fucking get her before she jumps!" So they had a leader, and he was stood grinning in the doorway, folding his arms with an attitude so corrupt. As you felt a guy grip onto your shirt, but before he could pull you back, you shifted forward, tearing the fabric and free falling down almost too quickly. Hitting the ground took the wind out of you. You'd shifted yourself to lie on your back and you were wheezing loud, so much so that Chris picked you up and tried his hardest to pull you over his shoulder. You were alright to walk, though, just a little stunned from jumping out of a window. Though as some of the men caught on to the both of you trying to escape, they ran back down to the entrance of the flats, chasing after you as Chris ran as fast as he could, you on his shoulder.  
"I swear, Chris, they'll catch up to us if you don't fucking put me down!" You yelled, beating your hands against his back. He didn't seem to care about you hitting him but he understood where you were coming from, so he let you down and the both of you ran until you hit the garage a couple streets down from the flat. You'd lost the men for now and you'd hoped Chris would hurry up and open the garage before they ended up catching up to the two of you. Chris had a nice little thing for taking his time and at the best of times, it really irritated you.  
"Open the fucking garage, or I'm gonna carry on running." You couldn't really sound threatening, but you tried your hand at it. Chris always found it good entertainment when you pulled the indimitating card and he always dismissed your half hearted attempts at threatening him, knowing you never properly meant it.  
"Why? I got a ride..." He grinned, opening the garage to reveal the Mist Mobile, which sat there in the dark patiently. You shook your head at him and you both took your seats in the front. Chris started up the car and the two of you sped off, impatient to find somewhere out of the way, incase they had others keeping a watch.


	2. No Power, No Responsibility

As easy as it was to escape the thugs that had set out to kill you and Chris, the two of you found it a little harder to think of somewhere you could hide yourselves. The two of you weren't exactly the friendliest pair at the best of times and your popularity could have done with a little work. A couple with more enemies than they had friends would find it extremely hard to attain any kind of back-up in your area. In reality, everyone was out for themselves and you of all people were lucky to get on the good side of Chris D'Amico and his father. Lucky for you, you had each and every one of his men looking out for you and you hoped that they'd look out for you in the situation you found yourselves in.  
The Mist Mobile had sped through the streets, disrupting each and every civilian going about their daily routines just by its loudness and obnoxious design. People turned to wave and cheer for Chris as he sped by everyone, not paying them a single glance.

"That's right. I'm a Super-Hero. You all love me..." He uttered, making himself laugh at his own phrase. Chris felt like less than a hero, he was just a boy trying to live out his childhood dreams but it was all too much to be what he really wanted. He'd gone from an attempted hero to being a slacker in a matter of weeks and you were the one who had to sit by and watch him mope to himself about being a let down. Though a quick flash of his... newer costume always seemed to pull him out of what ever misery he was wallowing in and turned him back into himself. Chris turned the corner at the end of the street and carried on down to one of his father's old warehouses, driving into the large garage by the side of it and parking up with an abrupt stop. You unfastened your seatbelt and pushed out of the car, wanting to quickly get inside to lie down though Chris was fiddling around with the buttons to the garage door, so you turned to the door in front of you and opened it with a quick jolt. He followed behind you as you crept on in, wondering around the large floor with big eyes filled with wonder.

The place was huge, covered in various decorations and filled with modern art. It was decorated perfectly with no exceptions to anything. This wasn't a warehouse at all - it was simply another house for the D'Amico's. In case anything got too rough for them, you assumed they'd come here to hide themselves for a while and then Frank himself would plan with his 'goons' on how to stop whatever situation had arisen. Whereas years ago, the past you would have been sick to your stomach at the thought of gangs and mafias hanging around in the shadows under faint disguises, you changed your mindset when you got with Chris. Your fascination for Frank and his gang grew and everything was interesting to you. You had small hopes of joining Chris in costume and working for his father in due time. Though it seemed a little bit of a silly idea, it was a dream you held onto. Chris took your hand and guided you up a swirl of clear steps, pulling you behind him as you continued gazing around at what the building had to offer. Everything was whites, browns and oranges and it was more than appealing to your eyes. Chris laughed to himself at your fascination with such a place, he was more than used to it, but he knew you certainly weren't.

"It's not that magnificent as you seem to think it is..." He said, turning back to you as you both reached the top of the stairs. You shook your head,

"It's lovely! I'd kill to live somewhere like this permanently."

"I don't really know about permanently... but let's go for temporary for now, shall we?" You smiled at Chris who lead you over to the sofa that sat nicely by a huge window overlooking the cityscape. You slumped down onto it and looked out at the city. "Try not to get to attatched..." He added, taking a seat next to you. Chris slipped an arm around your shoulder and drew you closer so you could lean your head onto him. Times like that were the best, no interuptions, no distractions and nothing bad happening to either of you. But at that point, you had to savour each and every quiet moment between the two of you because it was sure to change quickly. You always hated how everything had to be so complicated and nothing was simple but it was the life you chose to lead and complaining wouldn't change anything for the good of things. You expressed a sigh, nuzzling into Chris as he thumbed through your hair.

"They'll find us. And if they don't, Kick-Ass will- or even worse, Hit Girl." You knew you wouldn't be safe under the guise of a warehouse for much longer. Those thugs seemed too clever to simply give up when outrun by a car. "And all the responsibility of keeping what we do under wraps will be entirely on us and hell, if we're uncovered then we only have ourselves to blame. If we already had thugs coming our way then something must be up regarding the both of us. We're in for it, Chris."

"My Dad will help us out-"

"No. He'll send out his guys to assist us. But he won't be happy about it and he won't take on the blame for himself just because we got into a little mess with a kid who can, to put it lightly, kick in your dick and pull it out of your eyes." You knew Chris would always have that hope of his Dad bailing him out, but there was always that knowing that it wasn't exactly true. Sure, he'd send help but he'd never do it himself and ruin his own name, not even for Chris.

"{y/n}! We have no real power, so we don't really have much responsibility." No matter how many times Chris tried to protest to what he knew was true, you kept shooting him down with the simple facts and you'd always defeat Chris with what you both knew was really right. You shook your head at him and sat up properly, facing him with the most serious expression you could force yourself to give.

"Except, Chris, that's not true!" You slumped back against the sofa, lying out on your back as the two of you fell silent. With Chris defeated by you, you knew he wouldn't really speak up much for the rest of the night. So when the sky began darkening, you shifted yourself off the sofa and made your way around the place, trying to find a bedroom. You flicked lights on here and there and peeked into various rooms along a large corridor. Upon finding a bedroom, you assumed it belonged to Chris' parents - simply by the decor and the style of bed. You slipped in and shut the door behind you, stripping down and then crawling into the bed. It felt refreshing to slip into such a nice bed and to sleep in a lovely room was heavenly. Whilst dozing off, you heard the door creak open and then you felt someone slip into the bed next to you. Their skin hot against yours and their warm breath against your neck made you shiver lightly.

"You were right, {y/n}. Sleep tight." Chris whispered to you, letting his words linger near your ear. You gave a small smile, thankful he'd come to his senses. Then with that, you were asleep.


End file.
